


All Good Things Must Go On

by jaekayelle



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-20
Updated: 2012-05-20
Packaged: 2017-11-05 16:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/408547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaekayelle/pseuds/jaekayelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Retirement was put off as long as possible, but it's here now and Roger has to deal with the media attention and how his career was ever intertwined with Rafa's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Good Things Must Go On

It was over. They were both done. Surprisingly, Rafa had retired first, and now a year later Roger had followed at age 35, far outlasting his detractors' predictions. Rafa's knees, despite _his_ naysayers' doubts, really did hurt him, and his last year on tour had been painful at best. When it got to be agony to go out on a court he'd quit in 2015 at his beloved Roland Garros, making it to the final out of sheer bullheaded stubbornness, but losing badly in straight sets.

Roger's last match was the 2016 Wimbledon semi-final. He'd simply run out of gas. Not too many injuries to slow him down, just time and age and lack of enough energy to get him through again and again. 

“The heart of a warrior,” they'd said about Rafa playing on what amounted to broken knees.

“The Greatest Of All Time,” was what they said about Roger, well past his prime. 

They'd said those things about both of them for years. 

Neither of them cared enough any more. More important things had happened to them. Roger's daughters and his young son were what mattered now. He and Mirka agreed to raise the children together, even though they were no longer a couple or even married to each other. Mirka was with the brother of a friend of Paul Annacone's and blissfully happy. Roger kept his love life out of the media. Many wondered if he really was a machine that he could spend his life alone, without love. He simply smiled at the questions from reporters. 

Rafa and Xisca stopped pretending they were ever together in the first place. 

Court side at Wimbledon Jim Courier was brought in to interview Roger and to laud his achievements. 

“So, Roger, I have to ask what everyone is wondering – was it enough? Did you accomplish everything you set out to do?”

“Well, yes. And no. I won 19 Slams...”

“At least two more than anyone would have predicted,” Courier interjected. 

Roger nodded in agreement. “At least.” He laughed a little at that. “I managed to outlast Rafa. That's probably bigger news than winning the Slams.”

Courier and the crowd howled at his quip. Roger had them in the palm of his hand. He felt good, despite wanting mostly to go sit down somewhere comfortable and private and put his tired feet up. Not just yet, though. 

“Novak is still going strong, though, and likely will for sometime. Despite that maybe David Ferrer can win some more Slams with both me and Rafa out of the way. He deserves it, even if he is as old as me.”

The crowd roared with laughter again. 

Roger grinned. Not too much longer. 

“Speaking of Rafa,” Courier said, “no one has seen much of him lately. Have the two of you kept in touch? You used to be fairly good friends. Do you think he'll congratulate you on your career?”

“What you're really asking is what is Rafa doing these days?” Roger asked pointblank. He quite enjoyed the startled look that momentarily flashed across Courier's face. 

”Okay. Yes. I guess that is what I'm asking. He was big news and then he retired and disappeared. No interviews, no sightings, nothing. Do you know where he is?”

Roger glanced casually over Courier's right shoulder. “As a matter of fact, yes. He is right behind you.”

Courier spun around, nearly bumping one of the cameras hanging over him. Beyond that was a slim figure wearing a dark hoodie, face mostly hidden by the jacket and the flurry of hair that created a halo around the hood. 

He stepped around the cameramen and pushed past the eager fans to slide neatly next to Roger's side. The hood fell away, revealing Rafa who offered a shy smile. He never was one hundred percent comfortable in front of the cameras, except out on the courts while focused on his game. 

“H'lo,” he said to Courier and then smiled directly at Roger. 

“Hi,” Roger returned. 

The crowd went nuts. So Rafa was still big news. That was very good to learn. 

They stood shoulder to shoulder and looked at the bewildered interviewer. Courier glanced back and forth between them. He was a smart guy. He'd figure it out.

“What's going...? Wait, have you two...? Are you telling...” Then Courier got his cool back and with a twinkle in his eyes said, “So obviously you're still friends.”

Oh, yeah. He understood. And they knew he was the one interviewer who would handle this moment exactly right. That's why they'd planned it to happen today, or tomorrow if Roger could have made it all the way to the final. Didn't matter. It was all good.

Rafa spoke for the first time since his sudden appearance. “I come to help celebrate Roger's career.” 

Then he put an arm around Roger's neck and Roger turned his head to look into the big brown eyes that were so close to him. His throat felt tight and the sting in the back of his eyes told him he had better get himself under control before the waterworks started. Then Rafa gave him a look of such enduring love, one that had passed between them for years in secret. Now he could return it full force -- albeit a bit watery, for the world to see.

So he did. 

 

# end


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